


solace

by celosiaa



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Therapy, based on art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/pseuds/celosiaa
Summary: What did he think would happen, really? That he would just show up to his first therapy session—hi, nice to meet you, my husband and I ended the world—and come out completely fine?Better?No, it was always going to hurt. Stir up old memories he had buried so deeply with all the rest of his trauma, just so he can function. Always going to worsen what had been preventing him from talking about any of this in the first place—He cannot go inside and see Jon.(follow up to @lylahammar's comic, In Confidence -- link inside)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 147





	solace

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Lyla for their wonderful art and this particular comic especially!! you can read it  
> [here!](https://lylahammar.tumblr.com/post/639581494297378816/in-confidence-sort-of-a-follow-up-to-this-comic-i)

_Just go inside. Just go._

It’s been nearly quarter of an hour since Martin has technically been home; quarter of an hour sitting entirely still, watching the world go by on the street around him as he keeps his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. If he moves, he loses that extra bit of hold on his surroundings. He has not felt this unsettled since, since…

_Get a hold of yourself._

_Go inside._

What did he think would happen, really? That he would just show up to his first therapy session — _hi, nice to meet you, my husband and I ended the world_ —and come out completely fine? _Better?_ No, it was always going to hurt. Stir up old memories he had buried so deeply with all the rest of his trauma, just so he can function. Always going to worsen what had been preventing him from talking about any of this in the first place—

He cannot go inside and see Jon.

Sickened at his own admission, Martin’s vision begins to swirl with what he knows must be tears, but for all the world look to him like the fog that had once nearly swallowed him. Perhaps some part of him truly had been lost to the mist. The cruelest part of his mind tells him it was the part of him worth loving. Really, why did Jon keep him around? Out of some kind of once-supernatural bond now faded away to nothing; that Jon still pretends is there out of guilt?

_Spiraling._

_You’re spiraling._

_Get out of the car._

_Get out of the car and stop being selfish._

_Selfish selfish selfish selfish—_

Losing air; he’s losing air—not enough in his cramped little car that barely runs anymore, on its last legs. People on the street starting to look at him, and he cannot bear it; cannot bear to be seen, _calm down you have to calm down you have to go inside—_

He grits his teeth and summons enough composure to open his door, stand on shaking legs, navigate through the sea of _eyes eyes eyes, all on him, don’t look don’t look don’t look—_

Keys drop to the pavement.

And again.

Fumble in the lock.

At last, he’s able to slam the door behind him, ready to bolt straight into his room, past Jon’s voice, their eyes—

But Jon is nowhere to be seen. He is greeted by a silent and empty house.

The shock of it momentarily distracts him from the panic, and he sweeps his eyes across the room. Darkened in the dim of impending rain outside, the smell of his favorite candle on the warmer floods him— lavender and chamomile —easing the jolt in his stomach over Jon’s whereabouts ever so slightly as he notices the note placed near it. He slips off his shoes and pads over to the kitchen table to read.

**_Martin—_ **

**_I’ve gone for coffee with Tim. Just thought you might need a little time to yourself after taking such a big step today. Know that I am so proud of you, and I love you more than anything._ **

**_I’ll be home at 7 with dinner. Please take care of yourself, and call if you need me._ **

**_-Jon_ **

Overwhelmed—guilt, gratitude, love—Martin cannot tell which is the most powerful in this moment that sets him tipping his head back against the rising tears and the lump in his throat. Jon shouldn’t have to worry about this; should never have to worry about his presence in their home together. God knows they had been through enough of feeling unwanted to last them a lifetime. And yet…and yet. Martin cannot help but feel such enormous relief at the bit of space to let go. Space that Jon had foreseen—that Jon _knew_ Martin would never ask of them to give.

_Jon._

Reaching for his phone, Martin unlocks it as he sinks down onto the sofa, a blanket already freshly washed and waiting for him to curl up beneath. He runs a hand absentmindedly along the fraying knitted fabric and taps out a message.

**_I’m sorry—_ **

No. That wouldn’t do.

Try again.

**_Thank you, Jon. I hope you’re alright!! I love you with all of me._ **

A tear slips down his face as his leg begins to bounce with the anxiety of waiting for Jon’s response. What if they’re not really out with Tim? What if someone took them? What if they’re angry and left? What if—

His phone dings, and he cannot open it fast enough.

**_I’m so glad you’re home. Please be gentle with yourself. Take it slow._ **

**_I love you too, and I’ll be back in a few hours._ **

Relief washes over him like the tide—and in the quiet of this space, their _home,_ Martin makes his choice.

He hides his face in his hands and allows the dam to break.


End file.
